


I fear no fate

by seiji



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Coming Out, Epilogue, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 21:24:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11632209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seiji/pseuds/seiji
Summary: Suga goes home to his mom.A brief epilogue inspired by SedentaryZebra's brilliant DaiSuga ficRoot of the Root(read that first!)





	I fear no fate

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Root of the Root](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5867506) by [SedentaryZebra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SedentaryZebra/pseuds/SedentaryZebra). 



> Takes place immediately following _Root of the Root_ by SedentaryZebra.

His good karma lasts through dinner (deliciously normal), homework (sparse and straightforward), and three more kisses (short-and-sweet, awkward-but-sweet, and verging-on-sexy, respectively), until the angel in kimono taps gently on Daichi’s bedroom door to remind them it’s almost time for the last train. In this topsy-turvy brave new world, Suga can almost believe that her customary offer to lay out a spare futon for him has been replaced by a twinkle in her eye.

Good karma follows him on a breezy starlit walk to the station, into a mostly-empty train carriage devoid of drunk salarymen, down the alley where a fat calico lets him skritch her chin, and up the stairwell where the building super has finally replaced all of the burnt-out lightbulbs.

What kind of fool would have expected it to last?

 

“I’m home,” he calls toward the tv noise in the living room.

“Welcome back,” his mother replies through a bucket of tears. 

Struggling out from under his infinite number of bag straps, Suga leaves his shoes and stuff in a heap in the entryway and skids down the hall in his socks. He’d worked so hard to shield her from it, but it was impossible when the airtime kept bouncing all over the clock--popularity rankings were in chaos, and nobody could agree on whether or not “the subject matter” counted as “sensitive content.” And now, all Suga’s efforts are for naught. _He Who Must Not Be Named_ is on tv.

“Mom,” he starts, in the same voice he used on the calico. “Mom, you don’t have to watch this. I’ll fix you some ice cream. I’ll peel you an apple, okay? Let’s turn this off and go sit in the kitchen and--”

She turns on him, eyes shining through the folds of her Tenth Anniversary Live Tour collectible fluffy hooded scarf. The scarf has been removed from its package. The scarf is being worn on a human head, touched by his mother’s mascara-streaked face. “Oh, sweetheart,” she sobs, then sniffles too loudly to clarify whether she meant her son or the scarf. Suga hands her a tissue packet and sinks silently onto the cushion beside her to watch the program. 

He has so far managed to learn nothing about it except that it is, predictably, focused on the host’s _new alternative lifestyle choice_. At a glance it seems to be a perfectly ordinary location review show. The host is sitting in a perfectly ordinary (if conveniently empty) izakaya, sampling dishes and chatting with the man behind the bar. Suga can’t find a single notable difference between it and every other tv show all five band members and hundreds of their peers have been doing for decades, except for the rainbow flag among the decor of this otherwise perfectly ordinary izakaya. At the commercial break, his mother blows her nose loudly while a soothing voiceover extols the virtues of some face tonic, and scrubs the makeup from her cheeks while a seductive voiceover narrates a new brand of yogurt that tastes like pudding.

 

Daichi was wrong about Suga giving too much of himself to his mother. He gives her only everything she deserves. Which is why he absolutely cannot--

 

“ _Look_ at him!” she bursts out when the show comes back on. That Guy and the proprietor of the izakaya are sitting at a table in a homey little traditional-style room, perhaps the proprietor’s upstairs apartment. The rainbow flag has migrated to the proprietor’s t-shirt. Suga’s mother sighs hard enough to displace the scarf and continues in a voice too low to read her tone, “He’s just so…” Sniffle. “I still can’t believe…”

Suga swallows his dinner back down. For her sake, his voice will achieve new levels of soothing. He will become comfort incarnate. “Mom, you don’t have to keep watching this. You don’t have to keep hurting yourself.”

“Oh, Koushi, no! It’s not about me!” She presses one hand dramatically to her breast.

And that is such a departure from his prior understanding of the situation that Suga can only make hamster noises before she continues.

“Just _look_ at him! I’ve been a fan for twenty years, you know! Since before his debut! And all this time… He’s never looked like that with any of the women he dated. I always hated them; none of them were what he wanted, I could tell. All this time…” 

One of the men on tv says something Suga doesn’t catch, but it must have been hilarious by the way they both throw back their heads and laugh on camera. Suga’s mom literally squeals and wraps herself up in the scarf again. “He looks so _happy_ ,” she mumbles. Sitting up straight, she says it again. “I’m so happy for him.”

All of the temperature dysregulation that has plagued Suga’s body since the day the music died tumbles over him at once. His hands go hot and his feet go cold and his throat ices over like the moment he first saw the banner and his heart melts like the moment Daichi leaned in for their first kiss. He tries to clear his throat, gags on air and breaks down coughing, punching himself to make his lungs restart. What he wouldn’t give to have Daichi on the phone right now, to hear him say that he doesn’t regret opening his mouth to his mother and changing the future.

 

Suga’s mother looks away from the tv with a ridiculous fluffy scarf on her head and maternal concern on her gross face. “Koushi, are you all right?” 

A laugh takes root in his stomach. He takes a few pregnant-lady breaths to keep it down.

 

“Mom. There’s something I have to tell you.”

**Author's Note:**

> i finished reading _Root of the Root_ and within 20 minutes this epilogue appeared before me. thank you SedentaryZebra for such an amazing fic and for letting me play off it!
> 
> i know the celebrity in question is never named specifically in text, but having been a casual fan of the irl inspiration back in like 2005 i spent way too long googling irl concert venues and fan goods for this silly little fic. and then disregarded most of it. RIP Suga-mama.


End file.
